Aesthetics

The day the posters go up in stations, at bus stops and on billboard hoardings you know the model is imperfect because she never completely fits the aesthetic. As the designer you know better than anyone.    Monday morning working on the faces again, you remember a model you once dated. She didn't act the way the aesthetic was applied. She let you dress her though. She was used to it. She enjoyed it. Both of you did. The woman you now live with is different. You mould and airbrush the contours of one another's emotions.    A social occasion brings you into contact with her ex and in your head are the words, “the guy's a dick.”    In front of the computer a week later, you think of her because of him. This annoys you. A wrong connection. You’re forced to ask yourself whether you actually gave him a chance.    You realise it's a matter of the aesthetic and you resolve to be more attentive towards her, and towards the way she designs her life to perform acts of random kindness because you're the client and that's her brief.

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